


A Restless Night

by Kat_d86



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Caring Lucifer, Depression, Did I mention angst, F/M, Food Poisoning, Giving Up, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lonely Chloe, Lucifer Lockdown, More angst, No Beta, Not Sorry for the Angst, PromptSmiles, Protective Lucifer, Sick Chloe, Vomit, Which is bad cos I have actually got a Beta but they are probably busy..., but it isnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_d86/pseuds/Kat_d86
Summary: Chloe had been distracting herself since Lucifer left anyway she could but when a night of wallowing leaves her with food poisoning she has no choice but to face it all alone...until she isn't
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91
Collections: Prompts for Smiles





	A Restless Night

**Author's Note:**

> Created as part of the Prompt for Smiles campaign and I'm fairly sure the Prompter was hoping for Fluff....that didn't happen. 
> 
> Prompt for KshmaPatel on Twitter: Lucifer cares for an ill Chloe
> 
> All love

Right after Dan had picked up Trixie in the morning Chloe had cleaned the entire apartment to within an inch of its life. Then, after lunch, to try and keep herself busy longer she’d reorganized all her cleaning supplies. She’d found one of Mazes throwing knives at the back of the cupboard and put it in her old room so she could pick it up once she was back from her bounty. Out of State, too good to miss…apparently. That was fine. No, really, it was. It just meant she was going to be alone on a Saturday night for the first time since…well…since he left. In the last few months she and Maze had been hitting the town hard every chance they got. Trying to take their minds of their respective woes. There was a definite advantage to a Demonic drinking buddy. Chloe knew that regardless of how many shots they knocked back Maze would always get her home safe. Without that security she didn’t want to risk trying to paint the town on her own. Even if the alternative was to be stuck home alone with nothing but her own thoughts for company.

She finished relabelling everything in the box and as she did her mind wandered to the last time her stress had led her to clean like this. A dead guitarist with a divorce lawyer as Prime Suspect. Lucifer offering to go under cover with his new wife so he could weasel his way back onto her cases after he… She groaned as she realised what she was doing and mentally stopped herself from following that thread any further. She already couldn’t stop thinking about him almost every second at work and now she couldn’t even clean her kitchen without thoughts of him popping into her head. She needed something to keep her mind occupied.

She’d tried to organise her old case notes but couldn’t concentrate. Every time she subdivided things she could practically hear him complain about how boring paperwork was or condemn the dull titles she chose for her folders. She gave up less than half way through and decided to read instead. However the only books she had that weren’t work related were Class of 3001 which just had her mind wandering to the prom he had thrown her and that almost brought tears to her eyes. It was a happy memory but it just hurt…so much. She wiped away tears and closed the book. She briefly considered throwing it in the trash so she never had to look at it again but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Everything that had happened because of that book meant she couldn’t do that. She carefully put it back on the shelf with the others and shook her head.

She was supposed to be getting over him. He’s never coming back after all. He wasn’t. He couldn’t. Not without endangering the world. So she needed to get over him and move on for her own good. She’d been trying so hard the last few month but really wasn’t sure if she was making any progress. Maybe she should have gone out tonight? Not to a club but just out of the house. Perhaps some place for food then a walk on the beach? Looking out at the ocean…like he used to do…where she had first kissed him. She groaned at her mental slip and headed to the fridge. Time for beer.

A short time later she was eating thai takeout straight from the container with her second IPA. Zen Cho’s had been closed, family emergency or something, so she’d gone for the closest place that still delivered. It wasn’t great, pretty bad actually, but she couldn’t bring herself to cook when Trixie wasn’t here. She hunkered down on the sofa with her terrible Pad Thai and Netflix on auto play as she lamented her lack of forethought at leaving the rest of the beer in the fridge. She tried to focus on the show but when a new character started speaking with a terrible English accent she could practically HEAR him speak up.

“Oh come now, is that the best you can do? A cultured accent isn’t that hard to master. Pitiful”

She smiled at the thought. He wasn’t even British, he just liked the way he sounded when he… She caught herself from taking the thought any further. The crushing loneliness that she had been keeping at bay by not thinking about him threatened to crash down on top of her. She took a deep breath and wiped away the sudden tears forming in her eyes. She changed the programme to some documentary series, much safer, and hurriedly shoveled more lack luster food into her mouth.

After the second time she opened her eyes to see the TV ask if she was still watching she figured it was time to call it a night so stumbled up the stairs. As she pulled off her clothes the room spun slightly but she put it down to the third beer she had eventually gotten herself. She shivered momentarily and pulled on long pajama pants and tank top before climbing into bed.

“No sleep shorts Detective? You know I’m more of a leg man”

She screwed her eyes tight, because of course that is exactly what he would say if he were here. Or more likely ask her why she wasn’t sleeping naked and could he join her and… She stopped herself again. This wasn’t getting over him. This wasn’t helping. She needed to not think about him, to get along without him. It wasn’t healthy to keep imagining what he would say to every little thing. She pulled the duvet tighter to try and get warm. She just needed the hurt to stop.

Getting to sleep didn’t take long but it was fitful. Her dreams were vivid and disturbingly disjointed. Her mother was asking her to move back in but it wasn’t the beach house but where they had lived when she was a kid. She kept looking for her dad but couldn’t find him. At some point the house because the precinct and when she turned a corner there were faces she’d tried hard to forget. Dromos, Squee and the other demons from the Mayan…which was suddenly where she was. They grabbed her and Lucifer was right there. Even fuzzy dream thinking couldn’t smother her relief at seeing him. She reached out. He took her hand. She knew he would let go, to go command the demons and save them all. Only he didn’t. They kept pulling but he wouldn’t let her go. The demon mob started to swarm them. He held on. She started to pry at his fingers. He had to let her go. To get them to stop. He had to. The demons were burying them, everything went dark and then she was falling.

She awoke with a start, uncomfortably hot and drenched in sweat. She had no idea what time it was, other than it was still dark outside, and no possibility to check as her stomach flipped in a disturbingly familiar way. She bolted for her bathroom, hitting the light just before her shaking legs gave out and dropping her to her knees in front of the toilet just in time.

It wasn’t pretty.

After the initial heave she brought up not just the bad take out but what felt like every single thing she had eaten that day. In between puking she shivered and her arms could do nothing more than hold onto the bowl. There were a few false stops where she thought it had finished only for her stomach to betray her the moment she tried to move. She knew logically it was the bad food or beer or both but as she sat there shuddering she couldn’t help but feel that with everything she was trying to hold together now even her body was failing her as well. She started sobbing. Every third or fourth was interrupted by a dry wrench from her throat and deep breaths as she tried to get enough air. She was sweating more but paradoxically felt like she was freezing.

“Please” she begged, as all her despair and heartbreak mingled with her physical discomfort, “Please just make it stop” She rested her head against the porcelain “I just want it to stop” she murmured. Not really sure who she was directing her thoughts at. Not God, definitely not, she didn’t want anything from him except to maybe step up so his son could be free. Free to live his own life how he wanted. Free to be where he wanted. Free to be with who he wanted. To be with her. The damn she had been shoving all her emotion behind finally broke

“Lucifer” She mumbled into her arm and cried freely as she shook “Please” She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded as she sat hugging the toilet, her exhausted body interrupting her occasionally to try and void her stomach that was already empty. She still couldn’t stop shivering but didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. Even reaching for a towel as an impromptu blanket seemed like too much. She really wanted to get back in bed, wrapping herself in a cocoon of blankets sounded pretty good right now. Yet not only could she not summon the energy to move but she also wasn’t sure if she’d definitely finished throwing up. Even though it was highly unlikely there was anything left she didn’t want to make what felt like the giantuan effort to get back to her bed only to have to drag herself back here if her stomach betrayed her again. So she stayed where she was, her head resting on her arm as it hugged the bowl and tried to stop her body from shaking.

She dozed like that, too exhausted to care what she looked like and actually glad she was alone. She wouldn’t want to scare Trixie by having her see her like this. But thinking of the empty house made the loneliness wash back over her and her heartache came back in a rush. She stirred slightly, still cold but evidently her body was too tired to shake anymore. She had no idea how much time had passed and whilst her stomach seemed to have stopped rolling her head was now pounding. She pressed her forehead into her arm with a groan to try and elevate some of the pain. It helped a little but the effort to keep up the pressure, small though it was, made her feel like she was going to start shaking again. As soon as she stopped the pain came back. 

She cried.

It was all just too much. To have finally come to accept him, to fully love him and all they had gone through to get to that point together. For him to have to leave…and then the universe, or SOMEONE, decided to kick her when she was down. It wasn’t fair. Her tears made fresh tracks down her clammy face and she tried to get herself under control before she dissolved into a blubbering mess on top of everything else. She had to keep going. She had to.

A hand lightly caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears. A shot of adrenaline and she jerked away but was too weak to manage more than a negative growl as her exhausted mind tried to figure out who could have possibly gotten into her house. She tried to turn away from them, her cop brain screaming ‘threat’ even though her body was too weary to fully respond. A warm hand pressed against her forehead, just as gentle as the first.

“Detective” the word was said quietly, almost reverently, but full of care and concern. She forced her eyes open and he was there.

His hair was perfect. His suit was perfect. Everything about him was perfect.

“Lu..ifer” she murmured. He moved his hand from her forehead to cup her cheek and she leant into his touch. Relief flooded her. He was here. He was real. Why or how didn’t matter. He was here. With her. Fresh tears fell and he brushed them away with his thumb.

“Hush now Detective, I’ve got you” he said with that impossibly smooth accent. Now she knew why he’d picked it. It really was the best. Really brain? That’s what you focus on right now? She admonished herself as he picked her up with ease. She clung to him as he carried her bridal style to her bed, and wasn’t that a big joke, and laid her down. He pulled the covers up to her chin and she grabbed his wrist as he withdrew. Her fingers felt weak but he still stopped.

“Don’t go” she pleaded. The words catching in her raw throat and unintentionally the same as the last time they saw each other. She saw pain flicker across his eyes, others may have missed it but she knew him too well, even when she was like this she noticed. He lowered himself down until his face was level with hers and he stroked her hair back from her face.

“I’m not going far” He promised before leaning forward and pressing his lips to her forehead. She felt lighter as he kissed her and bereft as he pulled away, she clung to him as much as she could despite his words. Her bleary eyes followed him as he went back to her bathroom. She heard the toilet flush and then the faucet running. He appeared again moments later, turning out the light and making his way to her only by the streetlight coming in the window. It lit one side of his face as he knelt beside her bed. 

He held up a glass of water and helped her sit slightly to drink. It soothed her throat at the same time it cleared her mouth of the horrible aftertaste. She managed half the glass before laying her head back down with a sigh of relief. 

He smiled as he put the glass down and tucked her arm back in before pressing a damp cloth to her forehead. She closed her eyes as it cooled her. He drew it gentle across her skin and down her neck. She hummed quietly and tiled her head so he could clean the other side as well. He kept it up even once all the sweat and grime was gone. The strokes were soothing and, combined with the duvet he had tucked tightly around her, she felt less and less like she would start shivering again at any moment. Eventually he pressed the cloth against her forehead and left it there. She felt herself slipping, even though she wanted to stay awake, stay with him, she was exhausted and now she was finally comfortable her body was demanding sleep. 

“Detective?” He breathed as his hand gravitated to her cheek. His fingers softly stroked her skin and her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. 

“Just tired” She promised sleepily as she pressed into his hand “I’ll be ok”

He let out a huff and she managed a small smile. The cloth started to warm and he withdrew it. She opened her eyes to see him pop back to the bathroom and return with a freshly dampened cloth. He wiped over har face again, just as gently, except this time she watched him. He focused on his self-assigned task, on passing the cloth smoothly over every minute part of her face, and it couldn’t just have been her imagination that his eyes lingered on her lips as he wiped the cloth over her chin.

“I miss you” It was the first time she’d said it out loud. She’d been ignoring it, trying to make it go away and ‘get over it’ for months now but it still hurt just as much as that night.

“I know. I miss you too” it was both relief and pain to hear him say it. Despite the new aches from her body, some of the weight she had been carrying inside lifted. 

“I almost gave up” she admitted as his hand slowly took the cloth over the other side of her face.

“I know. I heard you. I was worried” he replied

“You heard?” her eyebrows knitted and he stroked the side of her face with the back of his fingers

“I always hear you” he whispered. She closed her eyes and drank in his touch. The logic part of her brain was coming back online and as much as it pained her there was a question she had to ask. Something she would rather know than not.

“How long can you stay?” she whispered as she opened her eyes. He grimaced and his hand stilled in his gentle caress of her face.

“Not as long as I’d like” he admitted. It wasn’t a direct answer, nebulous and so like him to avoid saying something he didn’t like.

“Lucifer” she admonished and even managed to glare for a few seconds. A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked away.

“Time moves differently down there. They’ve likely already noticed I’m missing so a little longer won’t make a great deal of difference when I get back” Still not a direct answer but one she could just about wrap her tired brain around. The longer he stayed the more risk of demons defying his orders again and coming to earth. She closed her eyes as yet more tears welled up. It wasn’t fair. Everything hurt. Her mind, her body, her very soul. But she was used to putting aside what she wanted for others. She squeezed his hand to remind herself that he was real. He squeezed back tenderly but she didn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t look at him.

“You need to go" she breathed out. His hand clenched in hers for an instant.

"Detective" his voice was strained, and she opened her eyes to see his face full of hurt.

"You can't let them get out...not over me" she tried to make her voice sound strong but even she could hear it cracking. He didn't let go of her hand as he lent down and pressed his forehead against hers.

"I won't let them hurt you" his voice had a deeper timbre and she had no doubt she had just received a promise from the King of Hell.

His other hand carded through her hair and she screwed her eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop her tears escaping.

"It's not me...worried...'bout" she managed. She was so damn tired. She could feel her exhausted body trying to pull her under but she fought it. This was important. She looked at him to try and make him understand "…everyone else...don't deserve...demons" her eyes tried to close again almost immediately. 

"Chloe" he spoke her name reverently, stroking her face with such gentleness she almost didn't notice his hand was trembling. She forced her eyes back open so she could look at him.

"Please" she begged him.

He kissed her.

She lost herself in the moment. Her hands weakly cupping his face as their lips met. 

“I love you” He breathed, and she felt tears down her face all over again.

“I love you too” She managed to whisper. Then between one long blink and the next he was gone, nothing more than a rush of air to mark his departure. She had just enough awareness to feel wave of crushing sorrow before giving in to unconsciousness.


End file.
